


So I won't lose you

by acrazyworldofdreams



Category: GOT7, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: 100th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Best Friends, First Love, Hunger Games, Implied Relationships, M/M, No Gore, Quarter Quell, Remix, Sacrifice, twist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-18 22:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20646470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrazyworldofdreams/pseuds/acrazyworldofdreams
Summary: The 100th Hunger Games & the 4th Quarter Quell arrives. The twist, the tribute pick is only from the 19 years old in each District.When District 3’s, Jaebum and Jinyoung are chosen from the small tribute pool, Jinyoung learns about what it means to be popular and what real friends are made of.





	1. Capitol Announcement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iverins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iverins/gifts).
  * Inspired by [so i won't lose myself](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5733880) by [yoonbot (iverins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iverins/pseuds/yoonbot). 

> It wasn't everything I wanted it to be but I hope you enjoy it - I loved the simplicity of your fic, which struck me so much. My idea came from their struggles, what does it mean to be truly liked and in the end isn't who is there for you that matters the most.

The 100th Hunger Games will be a spectacular like no other. The upcoming 4th quarter quell is fast approaching, and the excitement can be felt in all the Districts, especially the Capitol.

And as with every special games, the we are pleased to announce a special amendment for the 100th Reaping tributes to celebrate the wonderful occasion.

To demonstrate that age has no limits, all Tributes for the games must be of age 19. We look forward to welcoming the 26 tributes to the Capitol in 7 days times. Where more surprises away those you are lucky to be chosen.

May the odds ever be in your favour.

….

Meaning, you were never really free, no matter whether you lived or died.


	2. The Reaping

Looking in the mirror Jinyoung noticed his, now too short, tie was crooked.

He straightened it out of habit, and then patted down his shirt, already knowing his mother would be doing the same thing shortly but giving into the urge anyway. Nothing quite like a Reaping day to bring out old memories. The build-up weeks before the fateful calling was awful; the sleepless nights, the sweaty palms, and the utter dread whilst waiting out on the factory floor, home to District 3’s Reaping each year.

Seven years he’d gone through this process, each year crossing his fingers hoping to god he’d make it through alive, that his name wouldn’t be called. He’d been lucky too; his name only in the bowl seven times by his final year but now perhaps his luck had finally run out. He, and 122 other 19-years olds from his District, were to test the odds one last time.

A feeling in his chest had bloomed the moment he’d read the announcement concerning the new special ruling for the 4th quarter quell; an expanding feeling of anxiety and worry. This year he could feel it, Jinyoung was going to be selected, alongside 25 other 19-year olds, and fight to his death.

It would be a bloodbath like no other.

The fury from the failed second rebellion still running through their bloodline. It was sometimes hard to believe there had ever been a rebellion at all, the way his District kept their heads down and said nothing to the suffering they continued to be under. The punishments for the uprising had been horrific – a year of 4 games, one for every season. No age group left out. In the stories his father told him, by the end even the Capitol’s citizens could no longer bare to watch, and the following year had been a reprieve. To add to the devastation of the games, families had been separated, and identities stripped. Wiping out the legacy of Katniss Everdeen forever.

To whisper that name, was to whisper a death call.

Walking down to the kitchen, Jinyoung regards the walls of the home he’s grown up in. He’s been somewhat privilege in the latter years of his youth due only to his father’s impressive brain. 6 years ago, he invented a new technology, which changed the way people could communicate privately. Untraceable, uncrackable. He’d sold it to the Capitol making their name known across the Capitol, and then sold it on the black market making him infamous across the Districts.

The rebellion these days was quiet as a mouse, but it still existed, biding its time.

Sometimes, when they work together, Jinyoung and his father, he’s told tales of the rebellion legends. Those who fought till the end and told everyone to never give up, no matter how long it took. His father still believed, so Jinyoung believed.

His mother is at the stove, a forced smile gracing her lips, he knows she’s struggling to keep it together and he doesn’t blame her. What cruelty it was for mother’s across all the Districts, just as they thought their babies were safe (mostly) to discover their odds were even worse than ever. By the end of these games, 25 more mother’s would lose their child. It was the cruellest of fates, possibly why the Capitol held onto this punishment longer than any other.

“Mother”, he calls out to the woman whose held him close for so long. She doesn’t say anything, only pulling him into a hug and then pats down his shirt. The reassuring gesture he needed. The clock continues to tick, and it’s time to go. One final hug with his parents, he’s grateful for the life he’s experienced.

*

On the way to the Reaping, he passes the teenagers of his District, all who bow their respect. He is after all gifting them all one year more of life. Anyone between 12-18 will have to risk their lives one less time. It’s a gift to them, a curse to Jinyoung.

A girl from his old class comes running up to him, “Jinyoung, you have to come. It’s Jaebum. He needs you.”

He doesn’t show his concern outwardly, though inside he feared something like this would happen. Reaping day has always come down hard on his familiar, oldest friend. Being the son of the Mayor wasn’t an easy burden to bear and his friend had suffered more than most. A shy, and socially awkward soul, if any. Jaebum had never quite reached the popularity his father enjoyed, and his family had let that pressure be felt. It was imperative to them that they remained popular, without admiration and respect from the District they would lose the support of its people. Jaebum had always been misunderstood, but really, he was so much more than they saw.

“Where is he?” Jinyoung asks, wasting no time on the details. She won’t have any anyway. “Second floor bathroom in the old school building”. He doesn’t say goodbye, they don’t have long before the register calls for the Reaping, and this year it will take no time at all. The Mayor’s son missing will be big news, even beyond the capital. Jinyoung keeps his cool, panicking never solved any problems he found.

Where Jaebum was fire, he was ice. They’d always been this way. It worked. He hears him before he sees him; creating one hell of a racket. Another boy stands outside the room, nervously biting his nails, looking unsure as what to do. Knowing he needs to go but feels indebted to the boy behind the door probably. Jinyoung dismisses him with a wave of a hand.

This is Jinyoung’s burden only.

Knocking once, twice, three times. Words fly around the enclosed space and leak out of the gaps of the door into Jinyoung’s ears, _“Be likeable, make them love you, why can’t they just fuck off.” _It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before, but today is not the day for this. Failure to attend a Reaping equals a death sentence. “It’s me,” is all he says, and the banging immediately stops.

“Go away, Jinyoung,” the angry voice growls through the door, a lilt of concern edged around the words. And that’s the angle in which Jinyoung can worm his way in. “Nope, so if you don’t come out, you’re basically sentencing me to death.”

Silence.

Jinyoung has always been blunt, truthful but blunt. Maybe that’s why he’s always been liked so. Classmates always appreciated his honesty. An approval from Jinyoung became worth something. He never tried to please anyone and became someone to be admired. Jaebum never got a chance to just be himself. A projection of his parents was all he was allowed, and it felt short, so far short.

The door creaks open, to an ashen faced boy. It’s a face Jinyoung could never erase from his memory nor would he want to. Jaebum, his best friend. The boy with the heart of gold, hidden beneath thorns. Jinyoung wondered what would happened to him after he was gone.

“Okay you win. Let’s go to our final Reaping,” Jaebum croaks out, hoarse from shouting his head off to an empty room.

They walk together silently for most of the journey, after all what was there to say. Encouragement is not welcome in District 3 - of all the Districts, they are considered the weakest in the games. District 12 now considered top alongside 1 and 2. They had something to fight for.

The factory which has always hosted the Reaping is the biggest one in the District, created for the development of the Capitol’s Hovercrafts and probably the most respectable building in the District. Metal panels cover the entirety of the walls, creating a lifeless, hollow feeling and the sound was awful but it was the only place big enough to entertain the numbers required.

As the pair enter, the commencement bells rings, saving them from any kind of further punishment afterwards, should they make it through the tribute selection of course. Jinyoung surveys the bustling warehouse, surprisingly spotting his parents not too far from the stage. He guesses all the parents are nearby, with such a small Reaping pool this year, the families can be much closer. It’s awful in a way, Jinyoung would much prefer not to see the devastation on his mother’s face when his name is called.

The certainty of his fate should be alarming, but really it just feels inevitable.

Lionel Semuro steps up to the microphone, he’s been their Capitol representative for only four years, but he’s liked by most. Doesn’t dress too avant garde, nor does he make the whole thing into some kind of show. Secretly, Jinyoung thinks Lionel detests the games as much as Districts do, but he has a job to do, as do the people.

“Welcome, welcome. As this is our fourth quarter quell, you will not have been surprised to hear about the changing of the rules for this auspicious occasion.”

Jinyoung hides a smile behind a hand, yep, the contentment in Lionel’s voice is hard to hide indeed. “So with no further ado, let’s have a round of applause for the 122 tribute candidates this. All of the age of 19 before these games begin.”

A smattering of applause is heard. Though it’s not traditional to applaud the tributes here, but it appears the additional sacrifice these now adults are enduring is condemnable enough to be acknowledge. Jinyoung views the troubled look on his father’s face, and notes how tightly clasped his mother’s hand is in his. At least they have each other.

Next to him, Jaebum is not clapping, nor is he smiling. He’s never been able to hide his emotions as easily as Jinyoung. One day, he’ll have to learn how to fake it better, if only to be liked more. Maybe it will save his life. Up on the stage, Lionel reaches into the glass bowl, with the petty number of names. This year there is only one name per person. No tesserae’s. Just an equal pick. It means the odds are more in their favours as not to be picked, but fate is fate.

Lionel pulls a name, opens the slips of paper, and audibly gasps. Murmurs run through the crowd. Announcers aren’t usually supposed to show a reaction. Happiness, excitement and fun are the only emotions that should be shown on this Day, especially considering that his will be broadcast across the network. The words come out like a whisper, and Jinyoung steels himself to hear the syllables of his own name.

“Im Jaebum”

Silence covers the dusty warehouse, to a point where you can hear the stumble of the woman on stage, standing behind the mayor of their great District. Jaebum’s mother then feints, unable to keep it together. Jaebum snaps out of his shocked state, rushes to the stage and kneels beside his mother. He murmurs words to her as she wakes up and then lifts her hand to his best friend’s face. Jinyoung can just see her mouth the words, “my child” before the Mayor pulls them both up with a soft, but reprimanding look. This will not turn out well for Jaebum if the Capitol thinks they are rebelling against them.

Silence reignites the stadium, Lionel welcomes Jaebum up to rightful place on the makeshift stage.

Jinyoung goes to speak up, to volunteer and take his place, but from the scene that’s just taken place and the fear now on the Mayor’s face. He knows punishment will come to Jaebum if he doesn’t go into the games. Jinyoung only has one choice now, because without him, none of the citizens will be able to see past the façade that is Jaebum.

Without him realizing, the next tribute from the pool is being selected, this time the female candidate, “Kim Daeun”. Looking over the crowd of girls, Jinyoung remembers the quiet, sweet girl, always helping others in class, tidying away the spare electronic parts after a workshop. In general, a nice girl, now a nice woman, who is on her way to die but he also knows something else about her, something Jaebum told him recently that may just change the string of fate for her.

So as she goes to step out, he calls out to the quiet chamber.

“I volunteer”.

More silence. This is unprecedented. Male tributes cannot volunteer for female tributes. This Jinyoung already knows, but he’s hoping the knowledge he shouldn’t possess will allow him to step in for her. It’s a gamble but it’s his best shot at saving him.

Ignoring his parent’s pleading eyes, Daeun’s tears, and Jaebum’s disbelief, he makes his way to the stage. When he arrives, he’s pulled aside by Lionel and the Mayor. Jaebum’s father knowing him from years of calling upon his friend, asks tersely, probably more afraid than anything, “What is the meaning of this?”

Keeping simple, he shares what he knows about the girl. The Major doesn’t like it, but Lionel agrees with Jinyoung that it’s an acceptable enough reason to volunteer and be offered as District 3’s tribute. In this situation, Lionel has more authority over the games rulings than the man he’s known his whole life, another reason he knew he might just get his idea through.

Lionel approaches the microphone, coughs and loudly declares Jinyoung, the second tribute for District 3 in the 100th hungers games. It’s settled.

Jinyoung is going to die.


	3. The Capitol

Like many tributes before him, Jinyoung waves to the crowd and disappears into the greeting room, which have been set aside for the family’s to say goodbye. Although small, they are some of the nicest rooms that probably exist in the District, besides Jaebum’s house or the victor’s village, of course. He briefly wonders what the 12 other District’s tributes are looking at right this moment, but the thought is broken by the entry of his parents.

His mother looks at him in the eye, staring him out. Possibly trying to fathom some kind of understanding, as to why he would do this. Why he would put this burden upon them? The first tendril of guilt snakes into his chest, but he smothers it down. He will deal with that latter, perhaps in the moments of his death, when he does not really have to deal with it at all. His father on the other hand has a mixed look upon his weathered, handsome face. An older version of Jinyoung’s own.

The look combines great admiration, something Jinyoung has seen a few times in his life, and great heartbreak.

The next moment, they share a look of understanding, both knowing this is the last time they will look upon each other in this lifetime. Jinyoung should feel hollow, or grief stricken at least, but instead, as he accepts his mother’s open arms, and reaches for his father, all he feels is devotion and love. He has spent 19 years being loved by these two people and his gratitude for them knows no bounds. If only Jaebum had experienced this, perhaps he would be less fragile, more open to being loved and accepted by others.

“Jinyoung, I’m so sorry. I wish I could have done something more to help you,” his father apologise for something he shouldn’t. “but I want you to know how proud I am of you, for what you did today, and for all of your days.”

He’s not sure what words would be appropriate now, but he hears the curtesy knock at the door signalling the end of their time together and instead simply tells them he loves them. Something he hasn’t voiced out loud for a few years but today it needs to be said out loud.

There a few others who visit and then finally it is someone he expected from the moment he called those words out loud, Kim Daeun. Her eyes are wet with tears. She doesn’t say much, they both know the differing reasons, but the truth is that he has saved more than one life today and she will never forget him. Promises that her child will carry his name are sweet, but ultimately unsatisfying. He doesn’t want to deceive her about his intentions, but he takes them anyway. It would not do them good for anyone to know the real reason why.

She hugs him one last time, and his time is up. He leave the room, flanked by two Peacekeeper’s. Unnecessary but the Capitol are still living in fear. The rebellion scared them more than that would ever show. So far, is he yet to see Jaebum since they were separated. They’ve not had a chance to speak. He wonders what he will say. If his friend will shout at him, or worse give him some kind of silent treatment. All reactions have been weathered before, but it would be nice for there to be no reaction at all. Unlikely.

The train to the Capitol is even fancier than the rooms. Each step he takes is an upgrade into another life. One he never wanted to have. The high-speed train from the outside looks sleek but impersonalised, inside it’s bold metallic colours and over the top gadgetry. Almost like an ode to the District they’ve come from. Again he wonders if it’s the same for every Tribute’s train.

Jinyoung is met by an older woman, who he recognises as the victor from the 92nd games. Being only 13, she had never meant to survive but just like her predecessors who won, she used her genius and tech skills to outsmart her opponents. He remembers her games, watching tribute after tribute be caught in her hologram trap and fall to their grisly death. This is someone with patience and the ability to strategize, exactly what he needs to win these games. Gaehun introduces herself as his mentor and informs him of the next few stages. Parts familiar from viewing other games, other bits as foreign to him as the food laid out on the table, they make their way towards.

He spies Jaebum before the other sees him, and when they meet eye to eye, there is a silent understanding that words will be exchanged later. For now, better to under play their relationship out before their mentors and of course, Lionel.

After all this is just a game to play.

The feast before them features foods Jinyoung can’t name and is piled high enough to feed the entire tribute pool. Gingerly he selects a few bits of food to try. Strength will be important, so not point in denying himself. Jaebum’s plate is empty so far. He’s spaced out from the conversation which is going on between the mentors.

“Hey, you should eat,” he nudges the other. No response, so instead he piles the same foods up again on the second plate and then pinches the boy back into reality. An exasperated look comes his way, but Jinyoung nods firmly. They both need the nutrients, it’s not like even the Mayor had this kind of food.

After the first meal is done, Avoxes sweep in and clear the table. The mentor flick the screen on the wall to the side of the table and pull up the Reaping’s from the other District’s. The host Darius O’Lypuus is as annoying, and high pitched as usual. Jinyoung has never hated anyone in his life, but this man is someone he wouldn’t protest entering the games as a Tribute.

Jinyoung is unfamiliar with all the tributes, but Jaebum seems to gasp in shock when he sees the tributes from 1 and 2, especially the males. One’s Career is known as Kai, and Two’s is Oh Sehun. They don’t seem anything special to him but Lionel nods along to Jaebum’s reaction and murmurs, “Last year Kai was only beat out by a point to volunteer, and Sehun since has won their annual gladiatorial games. The two could probably snap your necks with their bare hands.”

It’s a frightening concept for someone whose never lifted a weapon in his life, other than that of an electronics welding tool. He’s feel a fragment of fear splinter inside his resolve, but it’s too late now for anything other than marching forward towards it all. They see their Reaping, the commentators don’t have many kinds things to say about Jaebum, and he hardly gets any screen time due to the editing, which is all focused on Jinyoung’s dramatic volunteering.

Not a good start all things considered. They don’t release why he was accepted as second tribute, but Jinyoung gets the feeling it will come up in the interview. He sees the real first tribute of District 3 wring his hands in frustration, and for what Jinyoung knows as worry.

Other tributes come and go, notably District 6 who are also both male, Namjoon and Hoseok. He wonders what their story is. District’s 7 and 8 have strong contenders from what he hears their mentors’ say. Looking at notes, Jinyoung and Jaebum are yet to see. And then it’s the final tributes from 13. At the beginning many couldn’t get used to the fact that 13 even still existed but they like the other Districts had to pay for their crimes against the Capitol. A timid boy called Sungwoon is called, followed by a pretty girl by the name of Seoyoung. Both fairly forgettable.

The worst thing that can happen in the Hunger Games.

“...both of you should go over the Reaping notes, and don’t forget to rest. We’ll be at the Capitol in a few hours.”

Jinyoung tunes in as Gaehun finishes whatever it was she was saying. Not ideal to zone out, but the events of today have become slightly overwhelming, even for Jinyoung. Jaebum looks worn out too. The wait begins.

Later that afternoon, the pair find themselves hidden away in Jaebum’s temporary rooms. It brings up many memories for Jinyoung, of times spent in quiet companionship. The same silence which filled the room then, fills these chambers. There is so much to say, but so much has already been spoken with no words at all.

Muttering fills the room, “I won’t be good enough, I’m never good enough”. The words slither like a snake into Jinyoung’s heart and wrap themselves around his heart. Jaebum’s pain has always been his greatest weakness. Rising from his position on the floor, sprawled out of the fur rug by the fake blazing fire, he slowly crawls onto the bed towards an immobile Jaebum. Not touching, Jinyoung lays down beside him, facing him. Jaebum bores holes into the ceiling of the train car.

“Hey, you know you’ve got me, right? I won’t let anything happen to you,” Jinyoung calmly states, sound far more confident than he should, but there’s just something about Jaebum that makes him feel reassured. Like he could and would do anything for the other. He becomes invincible in the sight of his pain, an immeasurable strength born just to sweep away the sorrow of the gentlest of souls.

But it’s like Jaebum can’t hear him. Lost in his own world. Jinyoung wonders where he’s gone but it’s the one place he can’t follow. Then he hears the words he’s heard so many times before, they are whispered into the reborn silence.

“I wish I was popular”

For the first time, Jinyoung doesn’t know what to say or how to fix it. In the end, he laughs humourlessly. "Yeah," he says. Jaebum's looking at him now. "Me too."

They just get each other.

*

The Capitol is louder in reality than the screens could ever show.

As the exit the train, Jinyoung adopts the expression he’s been known for his entire life. Friendly, but guarded. It’s a defence mechanism he learnt whilst young. When your father becomes a hero in the eyes of many, it changes things. People change their behaviours, suddenly you have friends you never knew you had. Jinyoung had never wanted any part of it, but he also knew the power of being admired and liked. Something Jaebum has never been able to comprehend. His heart lived too firmly on his sleeve, unlike Jinyoung’s which was hidden deep in the depths of his soul.

In fact, Jaebum’s honest and sincere personality had been one of the reasons they’d become friends. There wasn’t anything he seemed to want from Jinyoung, and thus Jinyoung gravitated towards him. Conversation flowed easily when needed, but they could also wile hours away together having never spoken a word. A safe space, but here there was just another pack of wolves, who only wanted a piece of him.

His job was to make them want a piece of Jaebum instead.

Jinyoung pushes Jaebum slightly ahead of him, and whispers at him to act like he just got home, and it was just going to be the two of them. It makes Jaebum crack the ghost of a smile, the one usually only Jinyoung got to see. It’s a truly lovely sight. The eyes crinkle slightly, and his cheeks raise a bit. The audience coos, and Jinyoung deems it a success.

They’re whisked away quickly, probably more tributes to welcome from a different train. The hover car ride to their new home for the next week is short. Brightly coloured buildings flash past Jinyoung’s eyes. He wants to take it all in. If this is the last week of his life, shouldn’t it a time to pay more attention to the detail?

It’s over too soon, and he hardly had a moment to think for the following hours. Gaehun tells him they’re going for the smart, bookish but handsome concept for the pair of them. He doesn’t think he’ll get it until he sees what his clothing looks like. His team of stylists don’t talk, other than to praise his handsome face.

The costume is a black boiler suit, but it’s made out of this silky material Jinyoung wouldn’t even know how to name. Underneath the open top portion, he wears an equally silky shirt, with an under t-shirt in white. They place wired frame glasses and gel up his hair. They hang a silver engraved watch from his top pocket and add some pristine black boots with white laces.

In the mirror they’ve propped up for the stylists, he can see the effect they’re going for. A hard worker, but also intelligent and someone the people can idolize. He can only dream what they’ve put Jaebum in.

Final touches to makeup and hair are done, and he finds himself whisked away once more. In the lift on the way down to the parade entrance, he thinks of all the tributes who came before him. The ones who went on to die, those who survived but at what price.

Is the cost for life too high?

They have Jaebum in separate cargo pants made out of the same material as Jinyoung’s jumpsuit, but he has a white army styled shirt, but it has black detailed along the edges. Soft, but hard. A choker is around his neck. It sends a tingle down Jinyoung’s spine.

“Ready?” he asks Jaebum, the other nods and the wait their turn.

Being from District 3 means they don’t have to wait long for anything. Jinyoung spends the entire parade ride coaching Jaebum on when to smile, to wave. His only goal is endear Jaebum to the crowd, he neglects himself and when he returns to the apartments in the evening, he is finally confronted by someone.

Gaehun to be exact. He wondered how long it would take.

“So, what’s your game then?” she asks as they sit opposite one another around the table in his room.

She called the meeting to discuss his strategy. “What do you mean?” he responds, hesitant to show the cards pressed tightly against his chest, so easily. “Don’t make a fool of me, or you. We both know you have motives which don’t necessarily align with you making it out of the games. So spill, because I need to know to help you.” She doesn’t sounds angry, rather just matter of fact.

Has she seen this kind of behaviour before?

“It’s simple really, Jaebum must survive. To survive he needs to be popular, with the Capitol, with the trainers. My mission is to make him as liked as possible and give him the best chance possible to live. Try to get him sponsors and friends within the tributes.”

“And yourself?” she asks. He pauses, unsure how to phrase to sound less dramatic. He’s not fond of making a show. “I am irrelevant in this scenario. If you want to help me, help me help him. That is all I ask.”

She leans back on the metal framed chair, considering him for a few moments before making her choice. She nods, “Very well. I will do all that I can to help…your friend…but you have to play your part. The Capitol will not take it well if you completely disregard yourself in this manner. You are popular already with the Capitol and dismissing them may reflect poorly onto Jaebum. You are a team from this point on. Understood?”

He nods.


	4. Training

Jinyoung always been an early bird and he awakens so early, that life seems to have continued on as if it hasn’t tilted completely upon its axis.

He quietly manoeuvres himself out of Jaebum’s grip. They didn’t fall asleep together, but Jaebum must have slipped in between his soft sheets during the night. Perhaps a night terror. 

Observing the movement of the other boy’s chest, a balance in and out of breath and a serene look on his fact, Jinyoung feels a brief moment of peace. Whatever brought Jaebum into Jinyoung’s room seems to have been soothed now. The details of a face he’s seen a thousand times before coming to life in front of him; the soft fluttering of eyes as Jaebum dreams, the strands of short tousled black hair fall and frame his face, and the curved in shoulders clutching at something. Investigating further he understands immediately what it is Jaebum is clutching; his mother’s scarf. She must have given it to him before they boarded the train.

A complicated relationship if there ever was one. She could never quite be open with her son about her care, which created a young son who doubted that anyone would love him if his own mother couldn’t.

Jinyoung pulls out the familiar looking jumpsuit, the one all tributes wear in the run up to the games, bringing with it that disconcerting feeling again. A sense of Deja-vu about an experience he’s never had. He’s following a story well-read. A helpless character in a book already written. Does he even have the ability to curate his persona? Somehow influence the other characters in the book.

Can he change Jaebum’s fate?

Stirrings from beside him, inform him he’s not alone in the world of the living again. “What time is it?” Jaebum grumbles, amidst sleepy yawning. This is softest this boy will ever be, and Jinyoung locks in away in his mind. This is his and only his.

“6.25” he shrugs. An unintelligible sound appears, but Jinyoung ignores it and begins his morning stretches. He’s a creature of habit and routine. A shower follows, too many buttons to contemplate for most, but as a tech engineer, he remembers studying this exact model as it went into production a few years ago. He even remembers the special trick to get the multi-combination of sprays. It feels like a win, in a week of none.

Jaebum is gone when he returns to the room, but he sees him soon enough over the breakfast table. Nerves eat away at him, but Jinyoung forces himself to eat some of the monstrous spread laid out on the table before him. He tries to encourage Jaebum to eat once more, but today it is a failed attempt. Jaebum is pale in the face and fairly unresponsive.

Space is needed, he gives it.

*

Entering into the training area is like walking into the den belonging to pack of hungry lions.

Although he’s studied their bio sheets, watched their Reaping’s and observed them at the Tribute Parade, it’s like seeing them all for the first time. Some of the tributes are yet to arrive, but over 20 are here now, ready for some kind of briefing. So formal for a death event. Jaebum is still silent, so Jinyoung decides to converse with the tribute to his left.

This being part of the game plan. Befriend tributes who can help defend them. Jinyoung’s been studying the past winners from District 3, and it had never been about brute strength. Wins are always made by using their brains and inventions. Jinyoung knows he excels in this, but he has no idea what the game has in store. His knowledge could be entirely useless and leave him dead within minutes.

“Heard anything about what we’ll face this year?” Jinyoung asks Youngjae, the tribute from District 5, who blinks slightly before responding. Looking shocked that Jinyoung has spoken to him.

Recovering quickly, he responds in a friendly manner, “Only that it’s nothing like we’ve ever seen before, which after 99 hungers games, is a little alarming.” The boy jokes, and it brings a smile to Jinyoung’s lips. A welcome surprise. He goes to continue the light banter but is cut off by the sudden entrance of a tight-lipped woman, with purple hair and a teal streak running through it. She’s wearing the Game Master’s uniform.

It is her planning that has created this game of death for them. He hates her immediately. More so than the president. This woman has thought nothing of the 25 lives which will be snuffed out within the next two weeks. How heartless she must be. Then all of the Capitol’s citizens have hearts of stone. 

“Welcome Tributes to the 100th Hunger Games and 4th Quarter Quell. As you will be expecting, what might be different this year. Usually we would not inform you before the games began, but due to the changes, it is essential to let you know now. This year’s game will be the very first virtual reality Games. Each of you will control a character based upon yourself, given the qualities and skill level you demonstrate this week,” she pauses, and then continues in the same emotionless manner she began with. 

“If you are hurt in the VR Games you will feel the pain and your character within the game will suffer as it happened in reality. Death in the game, also means death in the real world. This week you are being given the opportunity to use the technology for the games. How to interact with it and adapt your skills to the virtual world version of it. “

All sound in the large training room extinguishes.

And continues, Jinyoung glance around and see’s the fury on the female Career’s face from 1. Wendy, he thinks. Other tributes looks anywhere from enraged to petrified to hopeful, for example Hyungwon, District 4, has a small smile on his face, whether as every time Jinyoung’s seen him before, he’s been sullen and downcast.

“What the fuck?” Jaebum whispers besides him, but Jinyoung shushes him. It would not do to dissent in any way. They need their characters’ to be as fully formed as possible, and Jinyoung has the hint of an idea about how sponsors may be able to help. Being popular has never been more important.

“Smile Jaebum, do you want to get out alive?” he asks, shocking the other. “Of course,” the response comes immediately.

“Well play the game then. It’s time to use our limited experience to its full potential.”

Their day is spent being introduced to the technology. The VR shows itself in the form of a head gear, and a large chair, on which the tribute has to sit. They are secured in the pod type chair, hooked up via neural wires into their brain.

Jinyoung guesses, this is how the pain is transferred from the game into the real world. It seems unnecessarily cruel, but it must be part of how it works. Just because they’re in a virtual world, doesn’t mean this won’t hurt.

Within the VR world they learn how to take the skills they had in the real world and apply them to each other. It’s like being in the training room, but not at the same time. Jinyoung can see the other tributes, watches as a kid known as Hoseok throws knives around.

He’s not spectacular but still Jinyoung wouldn’t want to catch a knife in the neck from him. He also sees Youngjae a few times, going from the rope climbing station to the bow and arrow platform.

Again, the other tribute doesn’t seem to be excelling at anything in particular, unlike the careers who massacre everything. Though interestingly, Youngjae doesn’t seem too scared by Kai, who’s just split a trip in half with the throw of his axe.

In fact, none of the tributes looks that afraid. Is it an age thing or the VR aspect? Or have they learnt to mask their true feelings having lived in Panem for so much longer than most Tributes. He has no idea. He can’t compare his own experiences though, because he doesn’t expect to make it out alive.

Jinyoung and Jaebum stick together. They have a go at using the axes, throwing and hitting things with them. No-where as good as the Career.

In a different moment, maybe back in District 3, they may have even called it fun. Jaebum trying not to giggle at Jinyoung’s terrible attempts at hitting the fake tree with his fake axe. He misses, almost hitting another trainee. One from District 13, he tries to remember their name but fails. It’s a nice reprieve from the constant stress. A few more days of this go by, each of the Tributes getting used to the differences of the virtual world. At some points, Jinyoung catches flashes of something in the periphery of his vision. Mostly it’s after a tribute has launched a weapon or is changing station. Like the world is glitching somehow, he stores the information away though, just like he always has and then forgets about it. Knowledge is, after all, power.

The one station Jinyoung, and Jaebum to some degree, feel some kind of confidence at is the survival skill station. Mostly because you have to use your brain; creating and building comes naturally to those District 3. Jinyoung even manages to impress the trainer with his trap making skills, especially as he creates it using an electronic sensor.

The coding for this VR world is incredible.

Each night after training, Jinyoung’s sat down with Gaehun to talk through strategy. How she can best help Jinyoung help him. Surprisingly, his mentor has been busy. Talking to potential sponsors, and probably against the rules, she’s been asking for double sponsorship for the both of them, as their strategy is currently to stick with each other during the game, it makes sense to get them both help from the same person.

On the last night after the assessments, him scoring a 7, and Jaebum a low 5, they weren’t expecting more but it still sucks, she breaks the more positive news that they have a fairly well-known sponsor on board, someone who really felt their story when Gaehun shared it.

Sacrificing yourself to save an unborn child would make anyone feel kindly towards someone.

Jinyoung smiles genuinely for the first time. “Ahh there it is,” his mentor says amused. Jinyoung doesn’t understand and queries, “I’m finally witnessing, a real Jinyoung smile, the one your admirers would die to be on the receiving end of it.” He scoffs. Don’t these people have more important things to be doing with their lives, other than admiring his face. He knows he does. “Dismissing them will be the cause of your downfall Jinyoung,” Gaehun cautions him. “As much as you hate it, you need them right now.”

She’s right. To survive, he has to use every trick in the playbook, and he knows what he’ll use tonight at the interviews. Time to reveal why he volunteered.

*

The lights on the stage are blinding. He tries not to falter from their sudden sharpness as he walks on stage but it’s difficult. Jaebum’s just been interviewed but he’s not been on his best. Even after all the coaching from his mentor Saeton, and Jinyoung himself, Jaebum just wasn’t good at people.

After getting initially flustered by the host, and making the audience laugh, he had trailed off. Especially when the host mentioned his family, Jaebum had basically shut down. The host thankfully didn’t prolong the torture.

It’s all on Jinyoung now.

The hosts starts off friendly enough, perhaps a little wary after the disaster that was the previous interview. He asks Jinyoung how training has been. He tells Jorlin, the host, that it’s been fun learning about new things, and seeing what he’s capable of.

Jorlin takes the bait and starts questioning more about the things Jinyoung is interested in, and then finally mentions his father, as Jinyoung knew he would. Even outside of District 3, his father’s name is popular. 

“My father has always meant the world to me,” he begins truthfully. After all, at the end of his life, he wants to share his truth. “Father, I love you”. He looks to the camera. The audience cries in sadness with him, but it’s all fake. However he knows his father will be watching right now, and the temporary uncomfortableness is negated by that knowledge. He turns back to Jorlin, “My whole family have always meant the world to me, including Jaebum.”

The audience gasps. This is news to them. Jaebum didn’t mention them knowing each other at all. Planned of course. “Are you saying you and Jaebum knew each other before the Reaping?” Jorlin asks in a whisper voice right into his mic. It’s all a show.

“Yes, Jaebum has been my best friend as long as I can remember. He’s always been by my side and I don’t know who I’d be without him.” It says everything but it also means nothing at all. As long as the crowd attach themselves to Jaebum via their affection for Jinyoung, then it’s worth giving up this part of his past. “Tell us more,” Jorlin continues, even thought he doesn’t need to. Ever the playful host.

“When I was young, I was always the quiet child, and a bit misunderstood, in fact.” He half-smiles at the audience, and shrugs slightly. The audience swoons. Perfect. “But Jaebum just seemed to understand, and just accepted me the way I was. He listened and made me smile. I owe him a great debt.” Jinyoung sees some of the women in the audience, and some men in fairness, dabbing their eyes.

The best friends from District 3, going to die. It’s a sweet story, but is it enough? Possibly not. Things don’t always work in your favour. Jinyoung will keep trying his best. After all, there isn’t anything more after this.

“Before we go, I wanted to ask, so did you volunteer for your friend?” Jorlin sneaks the last question in.

Jinyoung doesn’t know how to respond. He’s not sure whether to play the helping a friend angle or to reveal the technical excuse he used to be allowed to be a tribute. He doesn’t want to bring any unwanted attention to his family or his District, and it makes sense to add to the friend story he’s been building.

“We do everything together,” Jinyoung finally says and shares his full watt smile with the audience, knowing hearts will melt all across the Capitol. His last-ditch attempt to save Jaebum’s life. “Even the Hunger Games, it appears.” The audience giggles, still swooning from his smile. He knows how to flirt a little.

The interview finishes, and Jinyoung heads backstage, Jaebum has disappeared. It makes him worry, but he stays to listen to the other interviews. It’ll be important to hear what their strategies are.

Lee Jooheon from District 8 goes for the pity vote, talking about the death of his parents and his older sister raising him and missing his niece. It’s sad, but like Jinyoung’s story, not unique enough.

Suzy from District 10 has so much contempt behind her words, Jorlin doesn’t seem to know what to do with it, but it’s not surprising. Suzy lost her brother to the games 10 years ago and is now leaving her ageing mother by herself. A cruel world indeed. Hongseok and Soyeon, District 12, are daring in their approach, mentioning those who aren’t spoken about. They mention Katniss and Peeta, not about their rebellion but about their first games and how they want to be as brave and fearless as them. The pair hint at a relationship but don’t confirm it. It’s a good angle. A re-incarnation of the star-crossed lovers.

In the end though, no-one really shines, which is good and bad. No-one to really align with, but also good because it means Jaebum won’t come off as so bad.

With a final bow and wave to the audience included, suddenly Jinyoung finds Jaebum squeezing his hand tight. It’s the first time Jinyoung’s seen him since his interview. Jaebum won’t look at him.

Worry flows through his veins.

Gritting his teeth, Jinyoung puts up with the crowd one last time. Knowing this is it, he’s done all he can do to appeal to these people, but he doesn’t think it’s enough. They are fickle, and no matter what he does, they will judge him in the way they want. The Capitol, and the Gamemakers, have created a narrative for him, but the public can do whatever they want with it. Love him, cherish him, neglect him, ignore him. The options are endless.

Jaebum continues to say nothing as they return to their apartment one last time, before disappearing into his quarters. The silence is ear-splittingly loud to Jinyoung. They should be closer than ever but Jaebum is pushing him away. What has he done to result in this. Nothing and he won’t let it stand. He deserves more. So after showering and putting on his sleeping wear for the final time, he determinedly walks towards the other bedroom.

Knocking once, twice. He pauses for a moment before entering.

Chaos. The room is in complete and utter chaos. Lamps have been thrown and are broken; the bedsheets ripped off their frame. The books, and ornaments from the desk swept to the side. And in the middle of the storm, sits a broken boy. One who has silent tears streaming down his face. This whirlwind has been enacted in as little sound as possible. It’s incredible he didn’t hear anything, perhaps it happened when he was in the shower.

Words bubble out over the devastation, “we're not getting anywhere, why are we not getting anywhere, I'm not good enough, I'm not good enough, I'm not good enough.” Jaebum rocks himself, holding onto his knees. Almost like he’s trying to self-soothe but he’s never been any good at that. That’s what Jinyoung is for, so he wraps his arms around the shaking shoulders and pulls him in. Letting the other’s head duck into his shoulder, hiding him from the world for a brief moment.

Jinyoung gives him the time he needs. It doesn’t matter that tomorrow it will be the start of a race they can’t win together. The only thing he can say to soothe him may be a lie, but it’s said in earnest, "But we will be".

One can only hope.

And he smiles at Jaebum.


	5. Epilogue: The Victor

One year has passed since the games and I still wake up in a sweat each, and every night. I dream of the moment I lost him over and over again. Haunting me until I scream my way into reality.

Will I ever be free from the torture?

I think not, but that’s okay.

It’s my punishment. My burden to bear. After all, out of 26 almost adults who entered that virtual arena, I was the only one to survive. Even now, it still feels impossible. That I could have survived.

I was never supposed to live, many said I wasn’t good enough for the games. That my competitors were better skilled, smarter, and most of all braver than I.

The week leading up to the games, I’d been unable to process much of what had been going on. Just trying my hardest to survive everything that was happening to us.

Throughout all of that I’d had him though. My rock and anchor point. Without him, I don’t think I would have survived, no matter what he always tried to say. I never wanted to connect with the world. Never wanting any part of it, but he always had this earnest way of looking at it. He tried so hard too.

Then in the games, every move I made there he was, surprising me with depths I didn’t know existed.

Taking down the Career pack together had been our glittering shining moment. Teaming up with so many of the other tributes had been incredible. Later I learnt from his mentor, that he’d spoken to so many and become friends with them, all those times he disappeared he was making allies. All part of his plan. One I knew nothing of.

Youngjae, Namjoon, Hyeri, Hyojung , Seola , Naeun, Jackson, Sungwoon and Hyungwon. So many names I didn’t even know, but he did. So we banded together, using our brains and winning over brawn, for one shiny moment.

And then for the first time in a 100 years, the technology had been taken over by a band of tributes and used to destroy the world around them. How he’d been able to see the cracks in the code that I thought were there and able to take advantage of those vulnerabilities, I still have no idea, but my crazy idea worked. When I first mentioned the idea, he looked at me like I was out of my mind, but somehow when we were in there, he did it. He worked it out. Our partnership worked like that. A pair that didn’t work without the other. Turns out all that studying trying to be a better person, paid off in the most unexpected way.

It worked so fucking well too.

Our sponsors had given us the virtual materials to build a trap to get them into range, so he could make them choke. I remember how it had felt just so right seeing the Career pack members, who’d killed our friends so easily in the beginning, choke on their own virtual blood and how a side of my personality awoke that day, one I never want to revisit.

Sadly, of course many of the tributes had already died of exposure to the ever-changing harsh climates within the games. Turns out even a virtual death hurts.

Taeil’s, District 11, death was one I can never forget. The piercing screams as his virtual body was melted away by the lava seared into my memory. His heart had been unable to take the stress, which is what killed his real body. Apparently, that was how it worked; the body couldn’t take what the mind thought was happening to it and the heart shut down.

They didn’t revive tributes.

We made it to the end somehow, the two of us, but I’ve no idea how really. The Game’s Master never figured out how he was doing it, and they couldn’t stop the games either, so it became a games with the tributes going against the Games rather than each other. Him changing the realities of the game where he could, them throwing something else back at us, it wasn’t a perfect system, but it helped us survive.

He was a thing of glory, messing around with the Game Master’s, his truly triumphant moment. He was finally popular, and I saw it in his eyes. How fulfilled he felt. Like his life purpose was achieved. At the end when turned to me to tell me a thousand things I didn’t want to hear, I knew he was saying goodbye.

A goodbye I didn’t want.

It wasn’t fair, after all that scheming and planning to keep him alive. In the end, it was me he saved.

At the time I couldn’t understand it, he deserved to live so much more than me, but now I know he knew they would figure out that he had broken their rules. That they never would never let him live, so why not save me. Save the person who was most important to him. That, I Park Jinyoung, his first friend, first kiss, first love, first tribute partner, was the first and only person he would die for. 

Winning the 100th hunger games made me famous beyond belief, but Im Jaebum became the boy who died to save his best friend, and for that he will be immortal.

Popular, loved but lost to all but me.


End file.
